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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24026482">An Unexpected Party</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowninja167/pseuds/rainbowninja167'>rainbowninja167</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Any resemblance to MAG161 is entirely accidental, Gen, takes place sometime during season 2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:21:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>672</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24026482</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowninja167/pseuds/rainbowninja167</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin is determined that Jon will have a <i>nice</i> birthday.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>An Unexpected Party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/arboreal_overlords/gifts">arboreal_overlords</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I really did write this months ago, but I think maybe all Jons everywhere are just cursed to suffer through overenthusiastic surprise birthday parties. Although now I've decided it's officially canon that the archive staff (and friends) just keeps surprising an increasingly annoyed Jon with a birthday party every year, which he never actually learns to anticipate. Like Lucy with a cake-shaped football...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“<em>Martin</em>, I don’t know what you consider to be a <em>filing emergency</em>, but—”</p><p>Jon halted in the doorway to the archives and stared at the motley collection of people currently assembled there. The motley collection of people stared back. And then, all at once, they seemed to remember their purpose for gathering (no doubt prompted by Martin’s wild gestures, just visible in Jon’s periphery), and announced “Happy birthday!” with varying levels of enthusiasm.</p><p>Basira, Daisy, and Melanie were all huddled together in one corner, passing around something that looked suspiciously like a flask; Elias had the kind of benevolent expression on his face that one could only learn at a senior management seminar; Sasha was examining the snacks table with interest; and Tim’s teeth were gritted in a parody of a smile.</p><p>Martin – by far the loudest of the “happy birthday” well-wishers – jostled and prodded at Jon until he was forced to stumble into the archive proper.</p><p>“How did you know it was my birthday?” Jon asked, in lieu of such questions as “What?” and “Why?”</p><p>Martin laughed, like Jon had made a charming joke, while Tim rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Uh, we’re <em>researchers? </em>So we researched it? Unless you find it <em>suspicious</em> that your employees know how to do their jobs...”</p><p>“Now, now,” Elias said genially. “Who wants cake?”</p><p>Basira’s, Daisy’s, and Melanie’s hands all shot in the air simultaneously.</p><p>“Why are you even <em>here</em>,” Jon asked them.</p><p>Daisy shrugged, while Melanie said: “<em>Trust</em> me, I am asking myself the <em>same</em>—”</p><p>“We wanted you to have fun,” Martin said, giving the group in the corner an uncertain look before turning back to Jon and handing him a piece of cake. “And Tim said that Basira and you—” He looked like he was steeling himself to send a child off to sea, if the child was Jon and the sea was Basira. “I mean—” Martin coughed and busied himself with cutting a slice of cake for Sasha. Which was apparently all the explanation that Jon was going to receive.</p><p>“Well, I brought her for moral support.” Basira gestured toward Daisy. Daisy replied by handing her the flask.</p><p>“And apparently <em>someone</em> heard me say we were <em>friends</em> when I was trying to get into the archive,” Melanie added sourly. “Is this the kind of label that’s going to follow me around for the <em>rest </em>of my<em> life</em>? If I’d known <em>this</em> would be the price of looking at some old files…”</p><p>Daisy passed the flask from Basira back over to Melanie with an air of silent commiseration.</p><p>“And now everyone has cake, so…” Martin mumbled to himself, clasping his hands and casting about the room. He appeared to be taking his hosting duties extremely seriously. “Except – oh! We all wrote you a card!” he added sunnily, before shoving a glitter-bedecked monstrosity into Jon’s hands.</p><p>“<em>Martin</em> wrote you a card,” Tim interjected.</p><p>“We all agreed to sign a card!” Martin amended, with no noticeable decrease in enthusiasm.</p><p>“As the poet of the group, Martin was really best qualified to <em>write</em> the card,” Elias clarified hastily, since Tim looked like he wanted to keep arguing the point. “But the sentiment is from all of us.”</p><p>Jon opened the card. More glitter fell out of it, to reveal a short poem done in elaborate calligraphy, with several hasty signatures scrawled underneath. He read aloud:</p><p>“<em>Roses are red,<br/>The Hive worms were grey,<br/>We’re definitely not murderers,<br/>So have a happy birthday!</em>”</p><p>“Er…thanks Martin.”</p><p>“From <em>all</em> of us,” Martin repeated insistently.</p><p>“Uh. Right. Thanks…all of you.”</p><p>“Here, here!” Tim said, raising the flask that he’d somehow managed to wheedle away from Melanie.</p><p>“You have people who care about you, Jon,” Martin said, grabbing hold of his wrist and staring earnestly into his eyes. “Who really, <em>really</em>…hope you have a <em>nice</em> birthday.”</p><p>Jon sighed. “Thanks, Martin,” he said again.</p><p>And wondered how much paperwork he’d have to fake to ensure that Martin never realized Jon’s birthday was actually in July.</p><p>At least the cake was good.</p>
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